Heartbeat
by Shan-chan aka Cosmic Castaway
Summary: Kagome sorts out her feelings on paper.


~*~Heartbeat ~*~  
  
By Cosmic Castaway  
  
It happened again. I don't understand it.  
  
Things like that are very scary to me. If I can understand it, I can work out an answer as to why. If not...I am left completly confused about everything. I can't even focus. My thoughts become jumbled so I can't even think. The thing about this problem is that I think I really do know the answer. But every part of my me refuses to accept it. That's even scarier.  
  
I'm supposed to be doing arithmatic practice right now. But my pencil has got a mind of its own and I am writing this now. My math book looks as if it's written in a foreign language. I want to study, I really do...I want to get rid of this sour feeling. This feeling of twisted stomach and icy-warm heart and jumbled mind. I hate it. I can't stand it. I can't even describe it correctly.  
  
Those eyes. Amber burning with longing and pain. Dark endless pearls of want and need. Jaw, clenched in eternal frustration. A broken soul. But a soul that has one thing left in it: blind passion. Yes, an animalistic force which drives him on. Makes him confident that he can do absolutely anything, conquer absolutely anyone. That he will never ever fail, and refuse to lose...to lose a fight, an argument...someone's life...  
  
Is that it? That passion, which drives him? Is that why he protects me like that? Yes, it must be. Dogs, I had one once. They are naturally protective by instinct. They can't help it. He is part dog demon...is it the same? Am I just part of his "pack" which he instinctually protects?  
  
Tears come now. Warm, salty tears. The liquid of human emotion. Why do they come to me? Fill my eyes and overflow, running down my cheeks? Dripping on my desk. Spattering like rain on my lined notebook paper. Why? Is it because I...I...? I can't even write it. It's stupid. Three simple words can be so imossible to express. No, it can't be. How could I?  
  
Instinct. A word associatied with animals. Used to explain something natural which drives them on to do things. But, why am I crying about it? A mother's love for her child cannot be helped. It's just there. That could be called instinct...but, it is called "love". Instinct is a cold word. A better word, I think, is passion. Or determination. Or...love...?  
  
Who's to say a dog does not feel love? That it's all just instinct? A dog loves. A cat loves. A bird, a whale, a fish can love. Humans can too. Can a demon...? YES! Anything with a heart and a mind, I strongly believe, has the ability to feel emotions. Anything can love. All of us do, in some way or another, and we don't really have a choice about it. It just happens. And it's...beautiful. Indescribable warmth and contentment. You can call it instinct. But it's still the same thing.  
  
My tears have left soft, cold trails on my cheeks. I feel a little better after writing this down. My heart feels a little better. But more questions come. Why? Why do I feel a little better now, now that I've sorted out my feelings? That he protects me, because, he truly cares? They say, you know, that words are nothing. People can lie, and they do. His words can be harsh. But they can be untrue. Love, they say, is shown by actions.  
  
He protects me with a passion I've never seen before.  
  
His eyes...so longing. His embrace was filled with an aura of compassionate warmth. His hand, grasping mine, trying to touch my soul. His flustered, comical reactions when he says something that makes me upset. He doesn't see it, or notice. I do. They are all his actions. They, unlike his words...does this mean he...?  
  
It happend to me again. That is what I am writing all this for. Something he did. One of those moments, rare as diamonds and ten times more precious, where he dropped his usual attitude and showed me his heart. And my face become flooded with heat. My stomach was filled with a tickling breeze. My mind twisted and turned and tried to think but could not. And then, like I always do, I bring my palm to my chest and I can feel it. That muscle, the size of my fist, pumping so hard and fast that I can feel it through my chest, through my clothes, with such a light touch. It pounds and pounds and pounds, fast and loud and furious. It rages with...with...I can't find the words. But it rages. With something.  
  
My heartbeat.  
  
It happens, every time. "Why is it beating so fast?" I ask myself. It causes all the other side effects too. The strong blushing. The knotted stomach. The scattered thoughts. All from one little muscle. The heart. And it rages inside you. Maybe it is a ball of growing feeling, trying to get out. Then, when you finally set it free...your heart gets lighter. But the strong heartbeat never stops. Now, it beats with exhiliration of release.  
  
I think I know my answer now. Here, sitting a my desk in my room. My window is dark, still shining new from when it was replaced a few months ago. From when the mask demon came after me. And my schoolbooks, lined up infront of me. The one mathmatics practice book still bearing indentations of his claws from when he "borrowed" it. And I've run my fingers over those marks. Figured out how he held it. Found a fingerprint on page 34. There's the soft glow of my desk lamp. The rest of my room shadowed with darkness. With the unknown.  
  
Very much like me, the girl with a warm glow in the center of darkness. And the glow shows. I'm a nice person, I'm told. I'm brave, I'm spirited, they say. But there is much of me that they can't see. Looking through my window from the outside, you'd see only the light. You wouldn't notice the darkness. Or the shadows. But they're there and I can see them. Everyone else has them too. No one does not.  
  
The problem is that most people don't realize what their shadows are. So how can they solve them? They have to sort out things for awhile. But me, I guess I'm lucky. I know. Yes, I'll write it now. I've known all along. If I saw myself, I'd have known immediatly. And I am myself. And my reactions show it...after all, if you take away the "re" you'll still get "actions". I have shown many actions and reactions. Towards him, I mean. And now I am sure.  
  
My heartbeat. It tells me that I love him.  
  
Gods, I wrote it. Those three impossible words. I won't write it again. And I have a strong urge to erase them right now and just go drown myself in more lies. But no. I won't. Something in me just can't do that.  
  
I know he is hanyou. Yes, part demon. Inhuman ears and fangs and claws and powers. Demons are evil creatures. Driven by selfishness and hate. But no, that is ignorance. The fox-child is a full demon, and none of those things. Just sweetness and youth. Yes, demons are not all bad. And my hanyou, I know his past. Riddled with tradgedy and betrayals that held more betrayals behind them. And then he was sealed away, put to death for fifty years by the only one he trusted. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of pain he's been through.  
  
Then came me. I think I was the first person in his life to just want to be on good terms with him right away. No fearing him, no judging him. That's all he needed. Just someone who trusted him. And I do. There were doubts, but I dismissed them. I couldn't bear the thought of them. Because of those three words. "I" and "love" and "him". Was it my destiny to heal him? To take his heart and slowly heal every wound with my trust? And, in return, he gives me my heartbeat. My heartbeat that means so many things. It means that I am alive. And that I can love, and be loved. And I do. And maybe I am, too. It seems like it.  
  
I don't care what he is. Or what he says. I care about him, and what he does. Only that holds any meaning for me. Yes, I still worry about my past incarnation. The priestess which now walks the Earth a demon. His old love. I saw him kiss her, hold her. But I am a seer. I can feel and sense things most people can't. And although it was painful to watch, and I cried...I can now recall that there was very little warmth in their encounter. Just hopelessness, just a sense of giving up. "I don't care anymore, a long as I am with you," he said. It was almost like he had nothing else to live for. But when he held me...there was intense warmth. Encircling us both. I believe in that.  
  
Maybe that's all I have to hold on to. But it's alot of "that" to "hold on to". I know he will always love Kikyou. But he knows it is now too late to act on those feelings. The priestess is too far gone from this world. She is tragic, you know. I wish, sometimes, that I could do something. The sadness in her face just pulls at your soul. But some things are beyond my control, and I all I can do is pray. Living at a shrine has taught me that.  
  
I feel alot better after writing this. I'm sure I can forgive myself if I skip studying tonight and just go straight to sleep. Emotions can be exhausting. Yes, I do feel a bit awkward now. But that's to be expected. It's part of being human.  
  
Will I tell him when he returns for me in three days? No. Because words mean nothing. I'll show him. And when I'm ready, I'll say it. But by then he'll have already known. So he'll know that my heartbeat is speaking, and not just my lying tongue.Yes, he is hanyou. And there's a human in there, too. So he'll understand. And maybe he'll tell me too, and I'll know.  
  
My heartbeat is going full blast now. And it feels just a little lighter. 


End file.
